


Someone Still Loves You

by Rebecca_Maximoff



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol, Deathwish mention kinda?, Fluff, Jupeter Reunion, M/M, Romance, im sorry, my heart needed this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:44:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebecca_Maximoff/pseuds/Rebecca_Maximoff
Summary: Juno has thought about reuniting with Peter more times than he can count, and now faced with that exact situation, he has no idea which sappy scenario to go with.





	Someone Still Loves You

**Author's Note:**

> Look. This is incredibly self indulgent because these two HURT MY HEART, and i needed a sappy reunion. JUST LET ME LET THEM BE HAPPY OKAY.

He was there.

Juno had to ground himself as the sight of him made him dizzy, unable to believe his eyes, but he was there.

Peter Nureyev.

Juno’s breath hitched in his throat as Peter turned around to face him, and he could tell he’d had the same effect on him. Peter mirrored Juno’s actions, despite the fact he had been the one to enter Juno’s office; blinking like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes, a sharp intake of breath, and then they both just, stood there. Staring at each other, neither sure whether to make the first move, or to make any move at all.

His mind raced, as he watched Nureyev’s face. Trying to pin down an emotion, but there were so many flashing across it, faster than the man changed names, faster than he made Juno’s heart beat. He tried to slow down his breathing as he decided what to do next, because god he had thought about this scenario so many times.

He thought about it in the office, on slow days at work, when his mind would wander. And before he knew it he was seeing the two of them, soft eyes and slow motions, walking towards each other, hesitant, even though they both knew what the other wanted. Peter would touch Juno’s face so softly, like he was scared he would bolt again, and a tear would escape Juno’s eye at the touch, both of them falling into each other, quiet and at peace.

He thought about it at home, staring out into the red swirls of a sandstorm, whiskey in hand, the alcohol numbing his fictional self’s better judgement, him running straight into Nureyev’s arms, pulling him straight into a kiss, fast and passionate, and they don’t realise they’re crying until they taste the salt on their lips and they pull away from each other. It’s beautiful. Until the alcohol sinks deeper into his brain, pulling him back to reality, and he drinks the whole bottle to try and forget the other mans face, but knowing he never will. Knowing that he never wants to.

He thought about it when the nightmares hit, and god damn it did they hit hard. They’d start with Miasma, Nureyev’s cries of pain, the days in the tomb alone, Nureyev coming to the rescue, his eye... Nureyev’s voice on the other side of that door, sounding so hopeless and broken, and he didn’t think anything could break Peter Nureyev, but he did. And then the nightmare would ease itself into a dream, as they finally approached the sunlight, and it was so bright, but Juno swore it would never compare to Nureyev’s eyes. The two of them exchanging their confessions of love, sweet and quiet. And then the room would crash, the air leaving his gut as the bed disappeared from beneath them, and Nureyev was stood in front of him. Except it wasn’t _his_ Peter Nureyev, because Nureyev’s eyes were so, so bright, even in the darkness of an ancient Martian tomb after weeks of torture. The man in front of him looked like Peter Nureyev, but it wasn’t, because his eyes weren’t bright, they were blacker than Miasma’s soul, and he didn’t _sound_ like Peter Nureyev. This man, this _thing_ posing as Nureyev was shouting, veins popping, red faced and screaming about how Juno was right to walk out because he didn’t deserve Nureyev, he didn’t deserve to be happy, or to be loved, and Juno was crying, backing away out of fear as the slightly taller man towered over him like a skyscraper of rage, until he fell from the edge. And then he would wake up, tangled in the sheets soaked with sweat and his face soaked with tears, his breathing too fast, and the lingering thought in the back of his head that the bomb should have taken him too.

And now Peter Nureyev, the man he loved, the man he abandoned was stood in front of him, and he tried to think, because he had the chance to choose and he tried to decide which scenario was the right one, the _real_ one.

Except he didn’t have chance to think, because his heart had decided for him and faster than he knew he could move he was across the room, crying into Nureyev’s arms, holding him so tight he doubted the man could breathe, and he could feel the shock that lasted barely a moment, before he held him tight and buried his head into Juno’s hair, and Juno buried his into Nureyev’s neck and they both felt at home like they never had before.

“Nureyev, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never should have walked out I should have, I should have-,” Juno pulled away to look into Nureyev’s eyes, those bright, bright eyes, that he had missed so much, now glossed over with tears.

“Shh, Juno, its okay,” Nureyev, with a shakiness to his voice soothed him, almost as if soothing a child and Juno couldn’t take how kind he was being, because he didn’t deserve it, he deserved to be shouted at, for Nureyev to walk away.

“No. No it’s not. I was wrong Nureyev, and I was stupid, and I could have at least left a note or- or something, but I didn’t want to leave not really. I shouldn’t have left, but I had to, or I thought I had to and I-I-I,” Juno ran out of both breath and words, talking too fast for his thoughts to keep up, clutching both hands in Nureyev’s shirt and resting his head on his chest. He could feel Nureyev’s unsteady breathing as he desperately tried to regain his own. 

“I meant it Nureyev,” Juno mumbled into his chest, before pulling away ever so slightly to look up into Peter’s eyes. “What I said that night? I meant it, every word.”

Their eyes searched one another’s eyes before Nureyev pulled Juno into a kiss, that neither of them would ever be able to forget, and they would never want to.

“I meant it too, Juno. Every word,” Nureyev whispered as their lips finally separated. A breathy laugh escaped Juno’s smiling lips as they brushed Nureyev’s and he looked down to the floor to regain his breath yet again. A few quiet moments passed before he spoke again. “I wonder detective, would you like to take a walk? We have a lot to talk about, and we seem to have caused quite the scene.”  


Juno hesitantly looked up from Nureyev’s chest to see Rita peeping through the office window, sobbing as if she had just watched the heart-breaking finale of her favourite stream. Another laugh escaped his lips along with a muttered, “God damn it, Rita.” Then that small laugh cascaded into a wave of laughter, tears and hiccups as Juno finally let his emotions wash over him, because god he had kept them all hidden in the bottom of a whisky bottle for too many months now. After a spell he looked back up to Nureyev, who held fondness in his eyes and the love of his life in his arms, but an eyebrow arched in question.

“Oh, right. A walk. Yeah. I’d like that Nureyev, I really would.”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me at work and i spent the whole day DESPERATE to write it, so here's my first attempt at writing fic. Comments would be appreciated, even if you just wanna cry about them with me. That would be greatly appreciated actually, COME CRY WITH ME ABOUT THESE TWO SPACE DISASTERS I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS.
> 
> (Title from The Overpass by Panic! At The Disco because i think it has amazing Jupeter and Hyperion City vibes)


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